Such a Disgrace
by MoosehGoHawaa
Summary: The legend of the Nords should be something pure and Nordic, but when the famous Dovahkiin is a half-breed of an Altmer and Khajiit many Nords are upset. This Dovahkiin becomes many things one shouldn't: an assassin and thief. Once Alduin is defeated, Ulfric has his eye on the assassin Dragonborn to join the Stormcloaks. He didn't intend on falling for him. Ulfric Stormcloak/M!DB
1. Chapter 1

Such a Disgrace

Hello strangers! I know a half-breed is a kind of iffy subject in Skyrim, but I thought one being a child of such an odd pair would be great for Dovahkiin. This is Ulfric/Dragonborn if you couldn't tell, but that is much later down the road. I will admit this will take a while until fully finished, but I will not go through the whole game. I would assume you already know it. If you do not like the violence, language, sexual interactions, or some OOC moments then I would advise you to leave this right now. If you do enjoy it, then enjoy!

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A hybrid is a disgrace; a half-breed is disgusting. Such creatures should be killed the moment they're born. Especially a child of a Thalmor wizard and a Khajiit thief, yet he was kept alive. His name is Kalara, an Altmer name to try and keep his Khajiit mother a secret. He was brought into Skyrim by his father once his mother was killed, and was raised as an outcast. Due to his blue cat eyes, claws, Khajiit tail, and abilities, the children raised in Solitude laughed and left him out. Little did they know Kalara would grow up to be an important man to Skyrim; he'd grow up to be known as the Dragonborn. He would save the world.

The young half breed, around the age of ten, sat on the steps of his house in Solitude during the night of Middas. Kalara just enjoyed staring up at the stars most of the time since he was secluded away from the other children. It was late, too late for a child to be up, but he didn't care. This was the only time he freely move around the Khajiit tail the jutted out above his rear, so he liked to enjoy it. Being a half breed was difficult in Skyrim. He was teased, bullied, and left out by the other children. All he wanted was a friend, at least one. Kalara made friends with the man who sells horses, Geimund. His father does not approve of him making friends with the common rabble, but at least he has someone to keep him company while he's away in the Thalmor Embassy.

"You're still awake, son?" his approaching father spoke as Kalara drew doodles of horses in the dirt. He glanced up at his tall father and nodded slowly. His father had blond hair, like most Altmer do, while Kalara had black hair, which he gotten from his mother. With a sigh, the wizard knelt down in front of his son to study the busted lip he'd gotten from the children that morning.

"Still trying to make friends, huh? It'll be fine," his father mumbled while using his helping hand spell to heal up his son's busted lip. Kalara just looked back down at his doodles and let his tail fall limp of the stone stairs.

He began to speak in a quiet tone. "Dad, why does everyone hate me so much?" the boy muttered while picking at his pants while his father brushed his black hair back behind his elfin ear. "Why'd you have to have me with Mother?" The half breed looked up at his Altmer father, who wrapped an arm around his thin shoulders. His father was warm, but had a stoic look to his face to make him seem cold. Kalara always wished to have a normal family with a mother and a father that were both Altmer. No, he had to have a dead Khajiit mother who was a thief. It felt too empty in his life without a mother to hold him and cook for him. All they had was a silly housemaid that his father liked to fuck in the nights when they thought Kalara was asleep. Poor Kalara had to listen to the terrible noises they were making before he cried himself to sleep.

"Because I loved your mother. She was probably the most beautiful Khajiit I've ever seen," the wizard said while looking up at the night sky as if he could see his passed wife. He then looked down at his son who had his eyes closed, probably half asleep. With a soft sigh, the Altmer picked up the boy and carried him inside, passing the housemaid.

"Errande? Are we goi-"

"Dad, I want to sleep with you tonight," Kalara interrupted their housemaid with a soft voice, opening his blue eyes a little to peek at the fuming woman. Errande looked down at his son in his arms and chuckled with a nod.

"Yes, but just tonight, okay?" Kalara gave a happy nod before giving the Bosmer women a small smirk who just glared at him in response. Errande carried his son up the steps and sat him up on the large bed to start removing his Thalmor robe while the boy lay back on the straw bed. The High Elf glanced towards his hybrid son, who instantly passed out once he laid on the bed, and chuckled softly. He gently brushed his fingers through the boy's inky hair as he sat on the edge of the bed. Having a child like him was difficult. All of the bullying, the gossip, the injuries, and the death threats they had gotten really started to take a toll on his work. Sure, he loved his son, but it was hard. Sleeping it off would just have to be his choice, once again.

Throughout the night, Kalara would make pained whines while trying to curl up against his father for comfort. His father was not in bed anymore. The hybrid sat up slowly once he heard those disgusting noises once again. They were coming from his room.

He got up with an angry huff, and began to charge towards his bedroom door. What was going on in his room was something no child would want to happen on his bed. Kalara didn't want to see the activity, yet he wanted to give his father a piece of his mind. The noises grew louder and louder as he stood before the wooden door. His hand started to tremble before he placed it on the door knob and pushed it open. The sight he saw made him want to burst into tears.

There was his father, leaning over the whore and snapping his hips against her rear. Their skin slapped together to fill the room with even more disgusting noises. It was when Kalara was spotted that made time fall still. A scream filled the heavy air once the Bosmer woman's eyes met his. Errande stumbled away from the wood elf and stared at his sobbing son. "Kalara…I-," the Altmer stuttered before Kalara ran down the stairs and out the door.

He ran. He ran past the drunks who shouted vulgar things and the guards that gave no care about him. The hybrid ran out of the walls of Solitude and down the path. His bare feet pounded down the dirt road with his heavy breathing filling the silent night. Where he was running was the only place he felt welcomed at. That place was Solitude Stables.

It began to rain once he stood at the door to the house of the owners of the small farm and stable. He lifted his hand to pound on the wooden door. When the young woman answered the door, Kalara was drenched to the bone and shivering. "Oh, you poor child. Come in, Geimund is taking care of a few things for the stables," she said while pulling the child inside. The woman hurried up the stairs while a young man looked up from a few papers.

"Kalara? Are you alright?" Geimund asked while standing from his chair to wipe the boy's chubby, tear-stained cheeks. Kalara shook his head slowly while sniffling, the rain from his wet hair forming a puddle on the floor. By then the woman had come back with a shirt that belonged to her fiancé and fabric for him to dry off with.

"Put this on and dry off then you can tell us why you are here."

With a nod, Kalara began to undress before the couple and took the dry shirt to pull it on. The woman hung the soaked clothing by the fire as he rubbed his hair dry. "Come here, boy. Tell us why you are here this late," Geimund said while pulling the hybrid onto his lap. He began to stroke Kalara's damp hair while he rubbed his eyes dry.

"Father was with… with her again," Kalara mumbled while looking down at his own lap. The woman rolled her eyes in disgust before kneeling down before the two to take the young boy's hands in her own.

"You may stay with us for the night. I can sleep in a bed roll since I know how comfortable you are with Geimund," she said in a soft tone while rubbing his petit hands with her thumbs. Kalara gave a small nod while wiping a bit of water from his brow. With a smile and a nod, she stood and moved to find something for him to snack on real quick.

"Fridrika, are you sure you're okay with this?" asked the Nord male while brushing the knots from Kalara's inky-black hair. Fridrika brought some bread to the child on her fiancé's lap before give a quick nod. The fire began to die down to cast a few shadows throughout the room.

"Of course, Kalara is like our own child. He needs some love from two parents," she said in a hushed tone. Kalara was drifting to sleep against the man's chest due to the soft brushing of his hair. Geimund chuckled and lifted up the tired half-breed to carry him to the couple's bed. Fridrika stayed in the kitchen to clean up while Geimund laid the small boy down on the straw bed. He pulled the furs over his frail form before climbing in beside him. When he felt the bed shift and creak, Kalara shifted and curled up against the Nord man, who is more of a fatherly figure than his own father. Geimund tensed up, but soon relaxed once the boy was fast asleep. That half-breed was like his training for his toddler son, Horm. There was something special about Kalara though, but it was too cloudy to figure out at the moment. It wasn't really something he had to worry about then so he decided to just go to sleep.

Kalara had woken up sometime in the morning and left the Solitude Stables building. Going home was something he was dreading. He didn't want to face his father because he knew that he would be scolded, plus it would be something really awkward. With a heavy sigh, Kalara made a slow pace back up to the doors to the city before pushing them open slowly.

Each step he took seem to grow heavier and harder to lift. The Nords continued to glare and spit out the vulgar insults that were hard for him to ignore. A child his age would occasionally run up and tug on his tail, causing him to stumble and wince in pain. It was a hard life for a half-breed; even harder on a dreaded walk home to a wizard and a whore.

As he finally took each step to the door, arguing started to fill his sensitive ears. "It is not my fault, sir! You're the one who wants to fuck me." Kalara paused at the Bosmer's voice and bit his lip to quiet himself.

"It's hard when your wife is dead and wasn't accepted in this society!"

Those words made the boy tense and ceased the movement of his hand toward the door handle. His father had hardly ever talked about his mother. Her name was never spoken either. Kalara did not know his mother's name. Errande's voice broke his thoughts. "Tonight you shall sleep at the inn. I need time alone with Kalara… If he returns." With tears stinging his eyes, Kalara pushed open the door and forced himself into his father's long torso. He began to weep into his robes while chanting 'I'm sorry' over and over again. The High Elf gave a sigh of relief and lifted the small boy into his arms.

"Hush, child. You mustn't cry," he said in a hushed tone while shooing away the Bosmer woman. Nothing could really stop the boy's soft sobbing. It was that he felt like his father didn't love his mother and that he was just a bastard child. Being a bastard and a half-breed of races hated in Skyrim was the worst thing possible for a child like him. He was already picked on enough so he must know the truth.

"Father…" Kalara whispered in a shaky tone. "Tell me about you and Mother. Am I a bastard?" After he spoke, Kalara exposed his tear-stained, red face to his father. Errande just sighed and sat on the chair by the fire.

"I truly did love her. She was killed the day before we were leaving for the Temple of Mara to be wed." The Altmer gave a sad smile to his son while stroking his hair. "We lived just outside of Skyrim when you were born. I was scared, but she adored you. I am just happy she saw your smiling baby face before they took her away." Kalara listened to his father's voice crack and noticed the tears he held back. A wave of relief washed over him while he cupped the man's cheeks.

"Thank you, Father. Now, I must ask… May I have a sword?"

Errande laughed out softly.

"We'll see, son. We'll see."

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Ooh man! Hope you enjoyed this first chapter. I wrote this a while back and finally finished it so it isn't my best work. I shall work my hardest to get this moving well and hopefully people will like Kalara. For these first two chapters it will be more of development of our Dovahkiin and chapter three is the start of the game on the cart.

Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Hello! I am quite surprised that this has gotten much more attention than I thought It would. I'm glad you all like it! I feel like I've made the characters in Skyrim ooc so I apologize. Did I do a disclaimer in the first chapter? If not, here it is:

I do not own Skyrim. This is only a made up story and I do own Kalara and Errande. Thank you and enjoy!

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In the midday of Turdas, two young men fought with wooden, makeshift swords. One was normal: a Nord. The other: an Altmer/Khajiit hybrid. The half-breed knocked the Nord over and pointed the wooden sword to his chest. "I win… Again." A smirk graced his lips before he helped up his friend.

"Damn, Kalara. Why are you so good?" the Nord laughed as Kalara flicked his long, black braid from his shoulder. The older boy just shrugged and glanced towards the man brushing the horses. Geimund was like the father he had when his own was busy with Thalmor business. Kalara glanced back at his friend, Horm, who nodded and gestured him off. With a smile, the older boy nodded and hurried over to the man. Their relationship was an odd one. Geimund was like a father to Kalara, but what Geimund thought was something much different. Fridrika was his wife, but he grew tired of a woman's sex.

"Hey Geimund, need any help?" The man brushing the palomino looked up while smiling at the owner of the slightly gruff voice. Being half Khajiit made his voice a little rough sounding with the smooth accent of an Altmer; such an odd pairing indeed. Every night he would imagine the noises that he could make with that voice, but it has never been proven to him. Soon… He would prove those noises soon.

"You can wash the one of there. She has gotten dirty from rolling 'round." The Nord jerked his head toward the mare munching on some hay happily. It was true; she was very dirty. The half-breed just released a sigh and moved to grab a bucket of water along with a piece of cloth. By then the mare had figured out what was going to happen and flicked back her ears with a warning nicker. She did not enjoy baths at all, or Kalara. What she did enjoy was nipping and stamping at the poor boy. Oh what Kalara did for septims.

It was a struggle to wash the mare, but he had managed to do it though he was now dirty. Geimund chuckled at the dirty boy and wrapped his arm around his shoulder to lead him from the defeated mare. "Now you need the bath, boy. I can help wash you up in the water near the mill. I'm sure Hjorunn won't mind if we're in the water," he said with an odd grin on his face as he lead the frustrated hybrid from the stables. He confused on why Geimund wanted to help him bathe since he was clearly capable to clean himself. It had been nice years since he was ten which was the last time the Nord bathed with him.

"I, uh, guess…" he mumbled while his tail twitched out of worry. He shouldn't care about bathing with the man he considered his second father, but there was a feeling in his gut that told him something bad was about to happen. The two began down the dirt path to the mill before Geimund talked to Hjorunn. The sawmill owner seemed to have eyed the half-breed in disgust before waving the two off to the water. When they reached the water's edge, the Nord was already removing his clothing while Kalara knelt down to poke at the water. He still couldn't shake the bad feeling from his gut as he began to remove the tunic he wore. The chuckle behind him made him pause and turn his head to the side.

"Why shy, Kalara? We have taken many baths together before so why is this any different," the man said in an odd tone while eyeing the soft skin of the boy's back. He slowly moved in as Kalara was loosening his pants, wrapping his arms around his small waist. A small gasp escaped Kalara's lips along with his body tensing up from the strange touch. He had always been hugged from behind by Geimund before, but this hug was different. This hug was more intimate and lustful which scared the hybrid. The Nord's hands slowly moved to replace the others on his pants.

"Allow me to help you, sweet Kalara," Geimund purred into the trembling Kalara's ear. What was he doing to him? Married men were not supposed to touch other men in such ways. Geimund was turning into Errande who betrayed his own wife. Those rough hands slowly slid down the half-breed's pants before removing his undergarments to expose his nude body. This made Kalara shift away from his arms and leap into the water to be hidden away from his eyes. No, this could not happen. Geimund and Fridrika had sworn in to Mara to be wed so why would Geimund want to betray the Goddess? The thoughts raced through his mind as he sat in the water, eyes never leaving the Nord. He looked a little frustrated when Kalara leaped from his arms, but he shook his head with a smile returning to his friendly face. Now he began to step into the water to be closer to the strange boy.

"Are we getting flustered? I will take very good care of you, Kalara."

He hated the way he said his name. That tone he used with that strange look in his eyes. It reminded him of the way his father spoke to the Bosmer woman. Was he to be Geimund's whore now? "I don't understand. Why are you acting so strange, Geimund?" The words that left Kalara's mouth were nervous and seemed to quiver a little. The only response he received was the Nord pulling him against his hard chest coursed with dark hairs before leaning in to press his lips to his elven ear. The way his warm breath caressed his ear made him shiver in disgust; he did not like any of it at all.

"I want something new, boy. Bedding a woman can get quite…" The man's hands slowly slid over Kalara's hips in a sensual manner. "Boring," he purred against his multiple pierced ear like some Khajiits had on their cat-like ears. Kalara found the whole thing to be vile. It was wrong for a Nordic man, who had sworn his love for his wife to Mara, to lay with another. How dare he even think about cheating on his loving wife with a boy he considered to be a son! His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when he felt hands working his braid loose. That caused the half-breed to jump away from the Nord and release a hiss of warning. He didn't mean to hiss, but he couldn't help it.

"Do not touch me. You are a married man!"

"Kalara, lower your voice," Geimund spat in a hushed tone while grabbing Kalara's arm. If someone from the mill heard them then they would both be in trouble with the Imperials. That would not be good for Kalara, for he wanted to be a part of the Imperials. He wanted to take down those rebels and that evil man who led them. Geimund suddenly latched his lips to the hybrid's untouched neck before Kalara screeched and shoved away the Nord. He stumbled out of the water and hopped as he pulled on his pants, not even bothering to pull on his tunic. He ran away while listening to the angry shouts of Geimund.

"You shall pay, half-breed! The Legion will know how much of a whore you are and the truth of your family!"

Once again, he ran from his troubles. That was all he knew to do. Would he run and cry to his father? No, but he had to get home. Geimund's words scared him. Would he really tell the Legion lies? Kalara shook his head after pulling on his tunic and opened the doors into Solitude as he ignored the vulgar shouts of the guards. He was getting good at ignoring people.

He had to act normal; he had to remain calm. Taking in a deep breath, Kalara lifted his head and walked through the capital to get back home. Not many bothered him for being a half-breed anymore, for they got no response like they used to when he was a child. What bothered him was when he was suddenly struck in the face with a tomato. He released a sigh and glared at the group of children giggling before they scattered to different places in the city. Though he was angry, a smile grew on Kalara's lips. Children were what made him happy. There were a few children that liked him which was quite surprising. Their parents usually told them bad stories about the hybrid, but few of them cared. They actually found the half-breed enjoyable. The girls braided his hair and the boys play fought with him. Smiling at his thoughts, Kalara opened his door to his home to find the Bosmer woman with a dagger against her neck and Imperial men surrounding her.

"Welcome home, half-breed." The door was slammed behind the boy before his arms were grabbed. Kalara stared at all the men he had looked up to in disbelief to what was happening. The poor Bosmer woman was sobbing and chanting an apology to the hybrid before a solider slit her throat. Her warm blood splattered over Kalara's face and clothing before he released a scream of fear. Another solider struck him across the face with a sharp 'Quiet!' before the man he looked up to the most yanked back his head by his long hair.

"Whoring yourself to the stable owner and his son? Filling the children's ears with lies? I have heard about you wanting to join us, but you would be the whore, half-breed. The Legion does not need vile creatures like you," General Tullis hissed out before spitting on the already dirty boy. A boy of his age should not cry, but he couldn't help himself. Kalara had looked up to the man, yet to hear such vulgar things come from his mouth was painful. How could he speak of such lies? Why did Geimund lie to him? Just because he wouldn't allow the Nord to fuck him, or put his cock in his mouth? It was disgusting; he felt disgusting. He was a disgrace to his family. Everyone in Solitude would know lies about the Thalmor Wizard's son, but what would become of his father? Kalara never wanted to ruin his father so he had to somehow negotiate with the evil man.

"Do not bring my father into this, sir! Spread the truth about only me and leave my father out of this. He had done nothing wrong!" Kalara cried while looking up at the General with pleading eyes. He was struck across the face once again, this time knocking him to the ground.

"Keep your eyes off of General Tullis!"

The man began to circle the trembling boy while tapping his chin. All Kalara could do was stare at the boots around him and tremble in the men's arms. He was growing impatient though the wait was only for minutes. He wanted an answer quick.

"Your father shall be left alone, but we shall have your head." The words made Kalara jerk up his head with a sharp gasp and tense his body out of fear. They want him dead? But why?! He hadn't done anything wrong. All they heard were lies from Geimund, but they believed him more than the half-breed.

"No! I refus-" Kalara screamed out in agony as an Imperial solider stomped down on his tail and yanked back his head by his wavy hair. The tears leaked from his blue eyes once again and ran down his bloodied cheeks. Harsh pants escaped his lips once he hunched over in pain.

"That was not something you can refuse, half-breed. It will happen. You will die."

The sudden blow over his head caused the boy to fall to the ground now limp from unconsciousness. He was to be taken to Helgen.

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Was that ending rushed? I am sorry. I just didn't know what else to do without dragging it on. If you have not guessed from that ending, the third chapter is the start of the game when the Dovahkiin (In our case Kalara) wakes up on the cart with Ralof, the horse thief, and Ulfric. Hope you'll stay with me for this story.


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